


Peter Pan Isn't Forever

by NerdyWolfy



Series: Writing Drabbles [7]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 16:41:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyWolfy/pseuds/NerdyWolfy
Summary: In this world, Peter Pan isn't forever, and neither is Wendy.





	1. Amnesia

(1) You are in an interrogation room. A man walks in and throws a bunch of photos on the table in front of you. The photos are old and were taken at different points in history. You’re in each one. He demands to know who you are. (2) Have a bomb set to a timer but that isn’t displaying the time anywhere. Have a complete mystery (maybe even to the person who set it) so it could go literally any second. Who’s brave enough to disarm it? (3) “I forgot.” “Who forgets to disarm a bomb that could potentially explode the world?!” “Well, that’s a stupid question. The answer is obviously me.” (4) “...just to be sure we’re all on the same page.” “Page? We’re not even in the same library!” (5) She looked up at him, tears filling her already swollen eyes, “But why? Why would you love me?” He tightened his grip, pulling her more snugly into his embrace, “Because you bug me, weirdo. Duh” 

      Warning(s): if you are uncomfortable with the following then please do  _not_ read; panic attacks (second part) and self-destruction. The panic attack starts from here, ‘It was quiet for a moment before he got up to leave.’ to ‘As he laid there for a few moments until he decided to close his eyes hoping to fall asleep.’

He paced back and forth in the room biting his fingernails out of habit. The girl was in the other room with a gunshot wound to the head, he didn’t know but he thought she was going to live. Her breathing was still stable even though she should be dead, and her heart still beat as if she was in a coma. He thought something but didn’t know whether or not it was her— _his_ her.

“What do you think?” a voice came from the couch just a few feet away. “I mean—she’s alive, her heart is beating and stuff. You saw this girl get shot, are you  _sure_ this is her, Pete?”

The man shook his head as he bit down into his fingernail. He pulled it out of his mouth and held onto it as it was now bleeding. He didn’t know for sure if he knew he wouldn’t be this worried. He so desperately wanted her to wake up, to know answers. This could easily be a fluke, just a mistake. It’s taken him  _years_ to find her, it’s not like he hasn’t been wrong before.

“Calm down Johnny,” a voice came from the doorway. Sweet smells of pie came from the kitchen—but even that didn’t calm his nerves. Hearing his name called out instead of ‘Peter’ stung him a little. Like a knife through the heart,“If it’s her, it’s her, if it’s not, then it’s not.”

“But she’s alive, Taeyong, she’s  _alive_.”

Taeyong sighed and sauntered over to him wrapping his frail around Johnny’s bulky arms. Johnny didn’t know why, but he did know that he found comfort from getting hugs from others—especially those smaller than him. So he returned the hug and rested his head on the side of Taeyong’s. If he could weep he could, if he could scream he could, but that’s everything Peter Pan went against. He had to stay a child forever—no matter the cost.

“As I said, calm down,” his small, mother-like voice comforted the older one. “She’ll come within due time.”

“And how long is  _due time_ , Taeyong? Hours? Days? Even years or millenniums?“ his voice cracking ever-so-slightly as Johnny hugged him. His hold tightened a little, but Taeyong didn't mind. “I want to say I can wait longer, but it just isn't about love or anything, it’s about Captain Hook.”

“What does that no-hand man want? Gold? We’re past that,” a male sat in the corner with his hands folded in front of him as he leaned forward. “From what I heard he went by Henry in the past twenty years.”

“He said something about needing her, Wendy, I just—I just don't know what.” Johnny got out of Taeyong’s hold and paced more. “Something about reversing time?”

 _Reversing time._ It rang in his head like a mantra, the only thing running on his mind other than Wendy. He remembered what happened that day, his long black unkempt hair, his metal hook shining off the moon, his dark brown piercing eyes. He didn’t want to remember, but he just couldn’t forget it. He wasn’t the leader, Taeyong is, but he just couldn’t help but take over like a leader.

“What all did he say?” the man in the corner sounded harsh, maybe because of his demeanor.

It was all a blur for him though. He remembered it’s just little spurts of when he will. He remembered the way his hook caressed his cheek, the way his moves were sweet but threatening. He knew—he just  _knew_ —that Hook hadn’t gotten over what happened all those years ago. Johnny didn’t fight, but this time he will.

“I...I don’t remember.” he shook his head while sitting down. It hurt them all to see Johnny—their forever boy—so hurt and broken. “I just,” he sighed deeply, “look I don’t  _want_ to remember, okay?”

“If he’s after Wendy then, yes, it  _is_ our problem. Pete—” Johnny glared at him, “ _Johnny_ , it hurts us as much as it does you!”

“I don’t think it will,” he whispered, somewhat dark now, “you don't understand, Yuta.”

Yuta’s mouth opened, probably to fire back, but quickly closed to someone squealing, “She’s awake! She’s awake! Hey—ow! Stop hitting me!”

Before everyone could comprehend his words Johnny sprinted down the hallway and to the man saying ‘ow’ every second. He may have been overreacting of his this whole thing, but he just needed some reassurance, someone there. Of course, the gang might have been enough, but he just needed Wendy. Her smile, her personality, her in general. He hoped that she was in a right state of mind after what happened last time they met.

“Who are you?!” the girl screamed trying to smack the boy stepping backward.

“Please, Ms. Sweetings, I need you to calm down!” the boy pleaded as Johnny watched this play out. Mostly for pure joy, but the other half for entertainment.

“You tell me who  _you_ are and I might think about not hitting you again,” she spitefully growled.

“My name is Jaehyun, Ms. Sweetings, you don’t remember me?”

“No, I don’t,” her voice was cold and harsh—it hurt Johnny to his now weeping heart, “and  _don’t_ call me Ms. Sweetings, Linda is my preferred name.”

“Or Wendy,” Johnny casually walked in, “Wendelinda is also her name.” to lighten the mood be made a grin which only just made her glare even harder.

“I go by  _Linda,_ no one has called me Wendy in a long time,” she growled, “how do  _you_ know my real name?”

It hurt him to see her like this. She wasn’t like her daring, sweet self—all she was now was cold-hearted and hurtful. He missed the way her smile would brighten when he walked in the room, the way she made his heart flutter. Her usual habit of asking how everyone is and taking care of everyone like a second mother. He hoped she’d remember one thing, even just a little speck, but nothing. He didn’t know whether this was love or not, he didn’t care. He knew that he got his Wendy back. As everyone said ‘The Wendy to your Peter Pan’.

“What about you giant?” her words hit him. He sure was a lot more innocent than he was tainted—sensitive if you could say.

“Johnny,” he answered back bluntly, “or Peter, whichever one you prefer.”

Jaehyun cleared his throat and looked towards Johnny, “May I have a word with you?” Jaehyun didn’t even give him any time to answer before he was dragging him out the door.

“What?”

“Don’t you ‘what?’ me! She has amnesia and you’re acting all nonchalant about it!” Jaehyun looked like he was having a panic attack so Johnny held the boy in place.

“Look, don’t worry, I expected something of this to happen. Remember last time?”

Jaehyun growled, “I was kept in a cryogenic tube for twenty years— _no_ I don’t remember.”

Johnny let out a little laugh while rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, sorry, but is there a way to make her—you know, back to normal?”

Jaehyun stood there for a moment: his lips pursed, his eyes down slightly, and a finger put on his lip. Johnny was holding his hopes high, possibly for a foolish reason, but he didn’t want to get them too high. He knew there were two possibilities: Amnesia or remembering.  _Amnesia_ , it ran through his head also. What if she couldn’t remember? It scared Johnny, but having her there made it somewhat better.

“What happened?” she groaned rubbing her head.

When she sat there staring at the two men she was completely confused and defensive. Everything was fuzzy, she could see but not clearly. She remembered names but not faces, remembered places but not names. She didn’t remember how she got to the bed she’s at right now, or what she was doing before all of this. She was scared— _alone_. She didn’t know what to do except ask questions.

“Here, try to lay back down and remember,” Jaehyun—even if that was his real name—tried laying her back down on the bed.

She wanted to snap at him, hit him, yell, anything to know what happened. The only thing stopping her from doing so was that she was lethargic,  _weak_ , to do so. Her tired muscles and incomprehensible brain wasn’t working. She just did as he said, laid back down and closed her eyes.

 

College. That godforsaken word that she hated so much. She had to get up at nearly seven every morning just to go to class for two hours and listen to a loud, annoying teacher give his lecture to the class. She lost countless hours due to school and lost a lot of her health. She hated it for a lot of reasons. She hated school—she can admit that—but she just hated  _his_ class. The morning bell always ringing at seven-forty and people scrambling to get to their classes. That's what they cared about, more about grades than people's health.

Right now their teacher was giving a lecture on why people don't pay attention in class. He gives them an enormous amount of homework that they don't know about because he's too busy hounding them on what's right and what's wrong. She didn't care about his speeches, not really about his class at all. She was always bad at math, so she always used a calculator on his work. He didn't really care either way if you got the work done and correct you got a passing grade.

It was normal for her to hear these speeches, even to hear the occasional, "If you're not smart in this class just get a tutor you imbeciles." Of course, it might've been verbal abuse, but people have been called worse so it just slips past them. She always looked down at her paper with her chin resting on her hand doing nothing. She was just waiting for the daily routine of, "Here's your homework, it's due the next day you come to class."

When the bell rang, at the usual nine forty, everyone just ran out the door as fast as they could. It's not that they were afraid of him it's that he would fit in a "special" speech—that was just a continuation of his usual speech. She usually was one of the first ones out because she was closer to the door, so she was already almost out of the college by the time all twenty kids got out of the room. All she was waiting for was that cool air of November and the sungrazing her skin—a mixture of hot and cold.

She's gotten used to all of this: the yelling, the schooling, the annoying people that give her glares on the sidewalk. She didn’t care though, not what people thought of her, not the pushing, the punching—nor anything. She just trudged on her way home through the sun starting to set through the darkness. Walking through the darkness, walking through the misty depths of the night, she loved it.

Her home was merely just a single apartment holding her (a twenty-one-year-old) by herself. Waking up alone and going to sleep with her was a daily routine, has been for a long time. She didn’t care about anyone else, just herself. She wasn’t arrogant or haughty though, just a loner. Her routine never changed, and she didn’t want it to.

When she got home she was met with the usual darkness of her apartment, not a sound to be heard. The only thing to be heard was her breathing and walking. She lazily turned on the apartment light to walk straight to the kitchen. Eating was her usual routine after school—not a lot though. She didn’t each very much, days at a time sometimes even up to a week. She never did care for eating, probably never will.

Her quiet breathing was caught in a hitch when she heard a dark, sinful voice behind her. “Give me everything you have.” short after was accompanied by a click.

She slowly turned around unamused of his actions and with a blank expression—she wasn’t giving in to his actions. She didn’t speak or move—just standing there at the counter with an unfinished sandwich on the counter. She wasn’t going to fight, she was just going to stand there. Her expression was unamused but she found this exciting, something to get her away from her usual routine.

“I’m not kidding! Give me everything you have! There has to be  _some_ hidden money around here!”

His voice raising or his gun now pointed at her didn’t scare her. She was testing something, but then again didn’t know the outcome. She usually did stuff knowing the outcome—but to this, she didn’t. Of course, to others, it was a stupid—no,  _foolish_ decision but to her, it was all an experiment. She just kept her position, her back leaned against the counter and her arms crossed.

“You left me no other choice then!”

She closed her eyes hearing the blare of the previous clicking sound. She expected an impact, she knew how this felt—probably not in the head, but she knew how it felt. She didn’t squint or try to run, not even scream, she just took it. Although, she didn’t expect another voice.

“Hey!”

The voice was different though. Didn’t have the accent of anyone in the area, felt  _foreign._ The voice felt like home, like a freshly baked pie, and soothing like as if it could put you to sleep. The blare was occupied by wind-chimes and a gust of air.

She didn’t get to see who this mysterious man was, as the next thing she found was darkness—her old friend.

 

She jerked up with force with black spots covering her vision. She shook her head with her hands running through her hair and her breathing heavying. Her chest rose and sunk, then did again for a few times until she calmed down. “You,” she looked at Johnny, “you were there!”

She didn’t know why he was there or how he found her but she knew she had to look over her shoulder from now on. She felt unsafe with them here, but yet somehow found comfort. She felt as if she knew them before as if she had  _met_ them before. She didn’t remember them, nor were they in the fuzzy side of her memory, but something felt familiar about it—like  _home._

She hadn’t felt home in a long time, just emptiness. Her daily routine of coming home in a monotonous and repetitive schedule. She couldn’t do anything, she’s done everything so she just felt numb now. Feeling home (that sweet smell like a pie or warmth of another) felt so new yet so familiar.

“Yes, I was.”

“How? Why?” she nearly yelled, “I don’t know you yet you talk to me as if I’m a friend!”

“That I do know,” he nodded.

“Just tell me how do you know me!” she nearly cried. She got into a fetal position, her legs to her chest and her head buried in her legs. She was confused, scared, in paralyzing fear—yet she couldn’t do anything about it.

“Maybe we should leave her be,” Jaehyun softly spoke as he was backing away, “Ms. Sweetings, you should rest, calm down. It’s not good for you to do anything in this state.”

She nodded as the two left. She felt alone at last, felt at peace with the loneliness she’s felt for so many years. When they left she felt safe but yet empty—bitter but sweet, full yet not. The loneliness of the room felt comforting—bittersweet almost. She longed for warmth, hugging people, caring for people— _feeling_. She felt this, feeling whatever this feeling is, and it overwhelmed her.

Sun came through the unclean window making the room a little brighter like it was trying to offer her some comfort. All she could do was cry, her quiet sobs the only thing she could hear. She never cried, at least not much, but this time she’s never cried so much in her life (which is a very long time). Her tears staining her face and her eyes now beginning to become swollen. She was crying out of frustration, fear, emotions she couldn’t begin to comprehend.

Hearing her soft cries from the other room made Johnny feel like he should do something— _something_ to help her. Even if he were to ignore Jaehyun’s pleas for him to leave her alone he couldn't do anything. He knew she had amnesia and he would willingly turn a blind eye to make her remember. He was scared for Wendy than he was of Hook, for once he truly was afraid of growing up.

Once he got back into the living room Yuta, Taeyong, and two others were now present. With the look on Johnny’s face, they knew it wasn’t good, they had never seen him so terrified. Yuta was the first to ask, “Well, Doc?”

He shook his head. “It’s her, it’s Wendy, it’s just that she doesn’t remember us. Amnesia it what it is.”

 _Amnesia_ , that word again. It was pounding against the walls of Johnny’s now throbbing head and made his heart ache for her. Hearing the word again made him nauseated, sick to his stomach. He didn’t know how many times he needed to think, but he knew it just  _hurt_. Seeing that Wendy doesn’t know them, seeing that she doesn’t remember  _him_ —loved him. He would have to live with the fact that he didn’t have the confidence to tell her and that he would never confess.

“Amnesia?” one of the boys stood up. “Is there anything we can do?”

“No, not really. All we can do is wait for her to come back, Doyoung.”

“All we can do is wait,” Taeyong softly spoke repeating what Jaehyun said, “it’s like Jaehyun said, she has Amnesia and that takes a long time to recover from.”

“She may never trust us!” Yuta suddenly exploded, “Hook needs her and we don’t know  _anything_ ”

“Calm down, Yvette,” a voice came from another room, “if she doesn’t come back and she stays the way she is then we need to gain her trust, if she does trust us again then we can continue. These things take  _time_ , you know that word, foreign boy? T-I-M-E, time, the thing we measure days with.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Yuta stood up with his fists clenched, “You may be older than me, Taeil, but that doesn’t mean you disrespect me either!”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Johnny yelled, “There’s no point in fighting! You know what, Yuta? Taeil is right! We need to regain her trust! She trusted us once before, why can’t we now?”

Yelling for Johnny was a foreign thing, rare for him to do. He didn’t like it nor did he do it. Usually, Taeyong, the actual leader of them, would be the one to handle the situation. Johnny was thankful for that since Johnny himself was innocent and timid. It scared himself to yell than for anyone to hear him.

“Sorry,” both Taeil and Yuta mumbled to each other before sitting back down.

“This’ll take time, we don’t need to rush but we need to make her remember as soon as possible,” Taeyong started to take control of the situation, “if we rush her too soon it will cause her distress and she seems to be in it now as it is, well from what I’ve heard him Jaehyun. If we do it too late then Hook may win, so we need to do it swiftly while doing it subtly.”

They all silently agreed while Yuta and Taeil were glaring daggers at each other. They’ve all been together for so long that some of the love starts to become strained. It hurt them to see them fight but they never lasted long since Taeyong was there. Like siblings, they sometimes hated each other but end the end their love never depleted. It didn’t hurt Johnny much to see them fight, but when it got out of control is when it did.

“So, how are we going to start off?”


	2. Introductions and History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendy didn't remember everyone, so it was up to them to get her to remember.

When she woke from her slumber she felt numb—a good kind of numb. Numbness to her was good for the pain, to feel as if it’s not there sometimes, feeling weightless. She must’ve cried herself to sleep since her eyes were bloodshot red and swollen. She didn’t feel her fear anymore or did she feel frustration. She was going to find out what was going on and go with them—they did save her life after all.

She swung her feet from the bed and the sun sky was now midnight. Her feet didn’t reach the floor until she got up. Her legs felt like jelly and her arms weaker than a thin branch. When she walked it felt as if a million weights were on her legs and that her upper body was like air. She felt different yet indifferent.

“Woken up yet, Ms. Sweetings?” a person—whose name she could not recall—came from the door.

“I think so?” she wanted to say it for sure, making herself believe she was okay, but it came out like a question.

The man didn’t say anything, presumably because he knew the answer, and walked in the room. “I can try to get you some clothes, but we don’t have much.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine, I’m used to boyish clothes.” she stood there for a moment before speaking timidly, “May I ask, what is your name?”

He perked up with an eyebrow raised. “Doc is mostly what the rest call me but Jaehyun is my name, or Jefferey, up to you.” he started to leave until he backed up just barely outside the room. “We have some food downstairs, I suggest you eat, you must be weakened from yesterday.”

She let a dry laugh out once he left the room. She hadn’t had any food in the past three or four days—she didn’t know she lost track after three days. Her mouth was parched and for once her stomach growled. She felt lightheaded and weak—both her head and limbs. Her throat begged for water and her strength begged for protein. She didn’t know how, but for once she was hungry.

When she left the room she happened to be in a corridor. The walls looked older and aged, multiple doors in the small corridor, and an opening near the end on the right. She walked towards the opening and made it into a living room: a couch sitting towards the wall, two loveseats like chairs facing each other both on opposite sides of the room, a lonely chair in the corner of the room, and various other furniture. The room was dark looking, scary and sinful but something was oddly nice about it.

“Wendy?” a small voice scared her making her jump nearly ten feet in the air. “The dining room is this way.”

Her heart started racing but it calmed down by the man’s voice. He didn’t seem harmful or dangerous so she thought he was safe. His demeanor didn’t seem threatening but instead shy and a bit distant. He hid behind the doorframe a little while holding it with his eyes somewhat downcasted. He seemed to be awkward which she understood—a random girl showed up and was shot in the head, who wouldn’t be awkward?

She followed him into the grand dining room, which seemed to be the biggest room in the house. Multiple people were sitting at the table already, one was Jaehyun, the other was Johnny, then four others. She whispered, “I didn’t know there was more of you.”

One of the men laughed, “Well, how many did you think? Three?”

“Shut up will you, Yvette?” a man snapped from the other side of the table. “Sorry about his sarcasticness. I’m Taeil or Timothy.”

“Stop calling me that feminine name! It’s not  _Yvette_ , it’s Yuta! Yuta Nakamoto, too hard for your thick skull to understand old man?”

“I am  _not_ that old, foreign boy, and learn some respect!” Taeil barked back.

“I'll gain respect when you learn it!” Yuta snapped back.

The man who had previously greeted her shook his head as he stared at the two in disbelief and even a hint of disappointment. “You two better stop fighting or I'll feed you to that alligator.”

Taeil huffed and Yuta slumped back in his chair. They seemed to mind the male—as if he was their leader. She thought that the ‘leader’ looked too small and timid to be a leader, but he may have the leadership she never thought he would have. The male seemed to have a stern look, almost parent-like when he scolded Yuta and Taeil. The leadership seemed to come naturally to him—like he’s done it since forever. She didn't know why but it made her feel a bit scared—what all was he capable of?

“I’ll go get you something, sit while you’re waiting,” the pink haired male murmured before leaving the room.

She nodded before hesitating to sit down. She used to having all eyes on her but not now. The attention was almost death— _suffocating_. When she sat down she could feel the little glimpses that everyone gave her. The only faces she didn’t know were all quiet, so she didn’t bother to ask their names. “Ten, Doyoung, and lastly Winwin,” Jaehyun pointed to three different people, “If they don't introduce themselves I might as well do it for them.”

“Winwin?” she asked confused.

“Sicheng,” Winwin answered, “but I’d rather be called, Winwin, if you don’t mind. William is my other name, Doyoung’s is Derek, and Ten’s is just, well Ten.”

“Why Ten?”

“Because,” Ten answered, “my name is so complicated you won’t get it right even on the third try.”

“Try me,” she hummed.

“Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.”

She shook her head. “Not even attempting it.”

Some laughter fell through the room cutting the awkward and intense tension. She felt uneasy but yet at ease with them. She felt home with them even though they were total strangers. The laughing came naturally and she started to feel more at ease. All of this scared her, but not in fear as it was before. Her ease, her comfort, this all felt unnatural but natural at the same time. Out of all of this though, she observed; Taeil is the oldest but probably not the wisest, Yuta was the aggressive one, Doyoung and Winwin weren’t in their individual category so they were bunched together with shy and quiet, Ten seemed to be a little more outgoing, Jaehyun was the helper—trying to keep people in line, the one who greeted her by the doorway was the leader—mother-like yet stern.

“Here,” she finally heard the man say as a plate was set in front of her, “so, do you remember anything that happened before you were unconscious?”

She took a bite of the food that was given to her than a big gulp. “Bits and pieces mostly,” her voice was smaller and quieter than usual, “but I remember the gunshot, and then bits of yesterday. I don't remember any of your names, or even if I hadn't met you.”

“Taeyong,” he looked at her from his seat, “Anyone else you don’t know?”

When she looked around she saw only one she didn’t know. When she looked at him however she felt as if she did. Do you know that feeling of when you  _know_ someone but can’t place their name? Or even when you know them (not their name) but the memories of them are fuzzy? She tried placing his name, his face, any connection at all but it kept coming to either ‘J’ or ‘P’. “You,” she pointed to the male with black hair, “you seem familiar but yet not.”

“Johnny, or Peter,” the man said, it almost felt snappy-like— _irritation._

The next few moments were complete silence, even her eating was silent. The occasional clinking of the fork and the plate were met, but it was rare. It was back to the same old tension again—intense and aggressive. She was afraid to make a sound as if they would all judge her. She was like a dainty little deer, one sound and it would spook everyone. They didn’t look like deer though, more like predators that were out for prey.

“Why were you there?” she looked at Johnny. “Your voice, it sounded prominent, it was there too.”

Johnny opened his mouth before it closed again, he seemed to be thinking. He looked back to her speaking this time, “I heard the gunshot so I went to investigate.”

She raised an eyebrow. It didn’t make sense, him coming that quickly to her aid? She didn’t understand him though, he might have been lying for all she knew. “That quickly?”

“I live a room above yours and so I jumped down.”

She still had her speculations though, but it was plausible. She didn’t keep track of who went in and out of her apartment complex—nor did she care. She mostly kept to herself in her little apartment what felt repeating and suffocating. She never heard anyone above her so she thought it was vacant or whoever lived up there was light-footed. Even with all of this, it didn’t make sense—she didn’t know how but she just  _knew_.

“Oh,” she quietly muttered, “sorry I guess I didn’t know.”

“You seemed to be hungry,” Jaehyun commented after what felt like hours of deafening awkwardness, “every little speck is gone, even crumbs!”

When she looked down at her plate she was pleasantly surprised. She never was the one to eat, and if she did she didn’t even eat half of what she fixed—but this? This was nothing more than ordinary scrambled eggs with sausage and toast, nothing over the top and nothing too bad. All of this together, it surprised her but it felt like it shouldn’t—she  _was_ hungry after all.

“It might have been because of the cook,” she complimented although she didn’t know who to thank.

“Why thank you,” Taeyong answered, the one who she thought would have fixed it, “I try my best for these heathens.”

“We are not heathens,” Yuta corrected, “we’re brats.”

“Heathens makes it sound worse,” Tayong bit back.

“Maybe more like delinquents?” Ten commented.

“Nope, heathens fit.” Taeyong shook his head.

  
  


After a while of some laughs, it quieted down. She was already back in her room as the others were roaming around the house. Last she knew Taeyong and Jaehyun were washing dishes, Winwin and Yuta were cuddling, Taeil, Ten, and Doyoung were playing with some cards, and Johnny was—well she didn’t know where. She just wanted some time alone so she could ask questions later. She didn’t know why but every time she was with all of them at a time she got more at ease with them—which bothered her.

She was sitting on the window sill while looking out the stained and dirty window. It didn’t matter to her that the window was dirty, nor about the small sized room—the morning sky outside was already grey and trees clustered around the place. She found it somewhat calming, the grey skies and the woods surrounding them. She knew she was safe inside the house and that the outside world couldn’t hurt her—not that she was afraid.

“Enjoy the somewhat stained window of the outside world?” a voice called from the door: Johnny.

She turned her head to him before looking out again. “Doesn’t really matter if this window was shattered or completely clean, I’d still look out of it.”

“You look through the eyes of an optimistic even though you’re mostly pessimistic,” Johnny commented as he made his way towards the window.

She shrugged. “I’m more of a realist. I’d look for practical facts rather than happy or sad. If the facts I find are unsatisfying I get used to it, as people should.”

“Sometimes it’s good to look through the eyes of an optimistic. It’s good to look up to the great possibilities rather than the sad.”

She looked at him this time rather than staring at the gloominess of the outside skies. “Why? What if your hopes and crashing down and you can’t get them back up? If you look at the side of a pessimist then all you see is horrible stuff and never the good. Realism gives you a taste of both but still staying towards the realistic future.”

He opened his mouth (like he did back in the dining room) but then closed soon after. He looked to the side trying to think of what to say but nothing came out or to mind. “Have no words, Peter?”

He snapped his head towards her almost scowling while doing so.  _Almost_. He furrowed his eyebrows and his expression became uncharacteristically angry. The way he was mad, angry, it looked— _wrong_. His whole character seemed wrong like it has gone off the path. He seemed gloomy instead of optimistic, impatient instead steady. Everything about him just seemed off, not creepy off but character-wise off. He seemed to be happier, but that smile seemed to fade away.

“ _Please_ ,” he looked a bit hurt, even wincing a little, “don’t call me that.”

“But didn’t you say your name was—”

“It’s like you and being called Wendy, you don’t like it.  _Please_ ,” he stressed again, “don’t call me that!”

She could only nod as she didn't want to make him even angrier. She could see the pain mixed with his feelings of anger. She didn't see any despair or sorrow in his emotions—just  _pain_. It hurt her to see him like this, even if she's only known him for a few hours. His hand trembled ever so slightly before going still. He seemed to pause for a few seconds, then those seconds turned into minutes, minutes seemed to go on for longer. He seemed completely still, unmoving and indifferent.

“Johnny?” she called for him. “Are you okay?”

He jerked back before coming back to reality. His eyes seemed to squint then turned to wide, bulging eyes. His pupils dilated and he looked as if he was going to fall back but didn’t. He looked at her with a puzzled look before realizing what he did before. “O-oh...sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.”

“What made you space out?” she asked, “If I may ask.”

“I would rather not tell,” his voice was quiet—much softer now.

It was quiet for a moment before he got up to leave. His heart was racing, not because of love—at least it didn't feel like it. His movements were quick and his walk became a run. His breathing irregular and his mind became blank. When he reached his room his brain felt like mush and his words jumbled around—even the thoughts in his head. He sat down on the bed trying to regulate his breathing again but failing endlessly.

His hands began to shake and his mind started racing. He felt as if he needed to run, felt as if he needed to punch something, felt as if he needed to  _scream_ but couldn’t. His chest started to feel heavy and stung with pain—as if someone was jabbing his chest with a knife and sitting on him. He started to break into a cold sweat with numb legs and hands and starting to feel sick and uneasy. He felt the loss of control like his own self-wasn't his. He didn't know whether he was having a panic attack or anxiety, although he never really cared.

He wanted to get up but he felt too heavy to move. Every time he tried to raise his arm it felt weak, so  _so_ weak—they felt wobbly, jelly-like. It hurt to move and hurt to think but that’s all he could do as he laid on the bed—  _think_. His mind raced but he couldn't do anything. He felt useless that he couldn't do anything, he felt  _pathetic_.

As he laid there for a few moments until he decided to close his eyes hoping to fall asleep.

 

_There sat a little girl looking out the window of her apartment. The stars illuminated the skies with their shining beauty with the navy-blue night sky complimenting them. The moon was particularly bright this night, although she didn't know how. The night sky was cold and lightly breezed by her window giving her a nice feeling of being outside. She usually did this at night since her father never liked her going outside and that her brothers were snitches._

_She didn't know why but she was never allowed outside. Her father always locked the doors so she could never go out, but allowed her brothers to go out freely. Her father never went out (possibly due to his daughter being rebellious even though she wasn't) and always stayed in turning stir-crazy. Quite honestly she was scared of him because of his outbursts. She only found the time to look outside and stare at the beauty of the skies was at night when everyone was asleep._

_She wasn’t scared of the outside world no matter what her father told her. She wanted to go out and explore—not be cooped up in a little room for the rest of her life. She wanted to be adventurous, free-willed, brave, and most importantly she wanted to love. She had never had the experience of loving someone, nor even her own family. She_ **_did_  ** _love them but only out of fear, and when she realized this she stopped loving them. She had seen countless times her other brother bringing home girls and saying he “loved them” even though he was probably using them for his own good._

_When she looked out the window she felt free, even the tiniest of air made her feel like an eagle. She felt free and that her arms were wings, her legs felt as if she would be lifted off the ground any moment to fly her out of this jail she calls a home. Even though she felt free from the comfort of the window she still couldn't help but look over her shoulder. No one knew she looked through the window at night and if they did her father would board up the window. She couldn't have the one thing she needed most taken away from her._

_A boy flew around the central state of the city looking around. He felt free and weightless—which he was used to. He saw the lights of the city magnificent, it was much better than the island which held no lights except for the fairy. These lights weren’t magical, they were electricity which made him even more intrigued by their nightly glow. The way they made light, the way they shined through the streets illuminating only parts. Even when he had to forget his adventures the only thing he couldn't forget was this._

_He liked flying around and seeing the night sky and everyone sleep. He’s done this for thousands of years but yet he still can’t get used to it. The new families, the new children, the stories, everything and anything. He wishes he could talk to them, wishes he could make a family other than his own, he longed it actually. He wanted something new, something fresh, just something._

_He heard a sigh come from a window not too far from where he was. He looked towards the window to see a girl, looking at the sky all dreamy-like. When she looked up at the sky all she could imagine is being a star, being free in space. So that’s when he flew to her, to her window. “So what’s your name?” he asked._

_She jumped a little before looking at him. “Wendelinda Sweetings, but most call me Wendy.”_

_He sat there for a moment at her window sill. “What about Linda? Has a nice meaning and ring to it.”_

_She giggled, “I guess you could call me both. What’s yours?”_

_“My name?” he raised an eyebrow._

_“Yes, your name! I told you mine so in return why don’t you tell me yours?”_

_He made a slight smile that felt like home more than her own. “Peter Pan, but you can call me Johnny.”_


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories suck sometimes. Especially if they're not good memories.

“He’s broken out into a cold sweat,” Jaehyun examined Johnny, “he doesn’t look too hot. I’ll have to see him myself when he wakes up.”

“Is he sick?” Taeyong asked.

“I don’t know yet, just wait for results Taeyong.” Jaehyun sighed, “I won’t be able to work with you hounding over my shoulder. You found him like this?“

Taeyong nodded as Jaehyun directed his attention back to Johnny. “Yeah, just sorta twitching a little but it stopped.”

Jaehyun snapped his head back to Taeyong. “Twitching?”

Jaehyun knew about these panic attacks that Johnny had, he was a  _doctor_ , it was his job to help them. He had Johnny on medication almost  _every day_ to regulate his panic attacks. Of course, the others didn’t know, how could they know? If they knew their Peter Pan was having panic attacks they’d stop him from doing everything. Johnny didn’t just trust Jaehyun because he was a doctor, it was because of his history with him.

 

_“How ya doin’ doc?”_

_Jeffrey turned around to see one of his patients, a fourteen-year-old boy named Todd with leukemia, smiling and waving slightly. The kid had been in the hospital for a good three months since he was diagnosed, and his disease was spreading quickly. Since this was the War they didn’t have the technology to help him get better or help treat him, so they helped as much as they could to prolong his life. He didn’t have long to live, but they couldn't tell him that._

_“Todd!” Jeffrey smiled, “How are you, my boy? Your leg still hurting?”_

_“Just a little,” Todd shrugged. “My right leg feels numb and I ache a little but I’m fine!”_

_Jeffrey didn’t understand how the kid could have such a bright smile. He thought maybe that since he knew that the kid wouldn’t live that it dawned on him but it might have just been that he had leukemia. Leukemia didn’t have a cure (and probably won’t) and no treatments that were long lasting. Since medicine was scarce at this time they couldn’t give all that they had to let one patient survive. It hurt him to see the kid suffer, he was one of his favorite patients although the board never knew about it. No favoritism, but Jeffrey let it slide with this one._

_“Go lay back in bed if you’re hurting. I’ll go give you some more Morphine.”_

_Todd nodded before waddling back to his bed which was just a few feet away. There hadn’t been any injured soldiers that had come in or rushed in. Usually every day there would be a soldier rushed in, at most three or four. He found it surprising that there had been_ **_none_ ** _, but then again it was still the morning. He loved that he didn’t have to do much work, but he couldn’t help but think that there were many injured soldiers here there probably dead._

_“Jeffrey! We got an incoming soldier!”_

_Jeffrey made his way over to the patient that was being rolled in. “Where at?”_

_“Shot in the stomach, seems to be multiple gunshot wounds,” the nurse nodded._

_“Name?” Jeffrey raised an eyebrow at him._

_“Johnny.”_

_Once they got him to a secure location, in the back of the hospital, they began to operate. It turns out the bullet had missed an important artery so he was going to live. At least Jeffrey thought so. Jeffrey went into the back room to find some more packs but it turns out there was none. If he wanted to wait for another shipment he’d have to wait_ **_three_  ** _weeks. “No, no!” Jeffrey wailed, “We don’t have anymore Morphine!”_

_He heard a light knock at the door. He thought that it was an angel sent from heaven to give him more, even if it did sound farfetched. When he turned around though, it was only Todd. “Todd, what are you doing here? You're not supposed to be back here.”_

_Todd spoke in a small, quiet voice, “Let him have mine.”_

_Jeffrey tilted his head. “Have what?”_

_“The Morphine, other patients need it,” Todd had the look of bravery and courage in his eyes._

_“No, I’m not doing that.” Jeffrey shook his head._

_He couldn’t imagine it. He didn’t wish for this day to come, for Todd to die. He knew sooner or later the day would come but he didn’t want it to come now. He’d grown to love and know Todd, and he knew the consequences if he did have a special bond with a patient. The rule was that you couldn't show favoritism towards a patient, nor to any. Jeffrey hated that rule but he now knows why they put it there; to protect the doctor and the patient from getting hurt._

_There were ways that Jeffrey could get around this; Todd was still a minor and so the doctor could do was they thought was best for the patient. Jeffrey wanted to keep him alive and knew he was going to die, but he didn’t want it to happen now. He was scared. He loved this boy as if he were his actual son._

_“I know I don’t have long to live,” Todd spoke without faltering, “why don’t you want me to save another person?”_

_“Because I don’t want to lose you, Todd! I know you’re going to die and I just—” his voice was shaking in anger but it fell to a shaky cry, “I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want death to take you away, not right now.”_

_Todd only made a small smile as he held onto the I.V bag. “Like pain, life is only temporary_ —  _it just depends on the process of how long. Some things are inevitable, maybe this was supposed to happen.”_

_Seeing the hope, the light in Todd’s eyes is what made Jeffrey reconsider. When he reconsidered he tried to numb the pain by not thinking about it. When he cut off the I.V bag and stored the morphine away for more shipment it crushed him. When he saw the light in Todd’s eyes flicker away it pained him._

_When he saw everything crashing around him—it hurt._

 

“You okay Jaehyun?” Taeyong put a hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder making the younger boy jump.

“Yeah, yeah, just let him rest in bed for awhile. I’ll stay with him until he wakes up.”

When the Lost Boy’s started to grow up Jaehyun knew something was wrong. It was the immortality of being innocent and young is what made them stay, Jaehyun had started to become innocent too, but even he knew something was wrong. It’s been years since they were growing and for that same amount of time Jaehyun has been trying to find a way to bring them back to normal.

“Alright, I’ll go check on Wendy.”

Taeyong left Jaehyun to his devices and went to Wendy’s room. He was checking on Wendy only because he hasn’t seen her in a few hours. He  _is_ the mother of the group so he has to check up on his children. He went into the room it still smelt just exactly like Jaehyun had left it: a doctor’s office. Wendy’s room was previously Jaehyun’s room so it smelt like this all the time. When Jaehyun left the room to go stay with Taeil the only thing that remained was the smell of a doctor’s office.

“Wendy?”

She had still been where she was before, sitting on the window sill looking out into the now darkened sky. “Taeyong, can I tell you something?”

Taeyong slowly closed the door and walked over to her sitting in the same chair Johnny had sat in. “What is it?”

“I...I keep remembering this thing. It only flashes though. It’s that I’m stuck in a room with Johnny and saying, “Where’s Taeyong?” over and over, not a lot though it’s sorta just spaced out. After that, it just switches to something more sweeter than the intensity of that one. I’m...I’m cooking with you. We’re having fun in the kitchen and we’re making chocolate pies. Do you know what these dreams mean?”

Taeyong knew that these weren’t just dreams but instead memories. He wanted to tell her everything that she was going to remember, at least try, but he couldn’t because he knew the risks of someone with amnesia. It happened to Yuta once before, but it wasn’t as in-depth as it is with Wendy. He remembered when they told Yuta and when they tried to tell him— _force_ him— to remember. Yuta had stopped trusting them and when he did remember he closed his personality out altogether. He wasn’t the happy cheerful boy he was. He was violent and even snaps at them.

“I wouldn’t know what they mean, they’re your dreams.”

Wendy sat there and thought for a moment before speaking again. “Well, they don’t seem like dreams. They’re too real. They seem like memories. But as long as I’ve been alive, or at least till I can remember, I haven’t had anything to trigger before.”

“Maybe they’re starting now for a reason.” Taeyong shrugged.

“That’s only one of many, every time I go to sleep I remember something then wake up in a cold sweat then go back to sleep and the process starts over again.”

“Well, I propose a thought. You can take this however you like but maybe they  _are_ memories?”

She hadn’t thought of it that way. The way she felt so at ease around everyone, how she just felt at home. The way she just fit in. It felt all too perfect to her, too natural. They didn’t feel dangerous to her though, not harmful or anything. They treated her like family and welcomed her with open arms. When the tension got the best of them she made a joke and they would laugh. She felt more at home here than she did anywhere else.

“Are you implying something?”

“No, no! I’m not trying to imply anything at all! I was just saying. It may or may not be true, just depends if you get these anymore and they start to match up.”

Taeyong left and she still stayed on the window sill. The stars and the sky filling her imagination. When she finally got up to go to bed she thought about the stars, the night sky, and everything in between. She didn’t know why she had never thought of anything before going to sleep. It was just a monotonous job or go to sleep and wake up the next morning. She fell asleep soundly and without a trouble.

But when she woke up she remembered.


	4. Captain Hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Endings aren't always good.  
> Even if it's Peter Pan.

The morning sun blinded her eyes when she woke up. She remembered who she was. She was Wendelinda Sweetings and she was twenty-one years old born in the year nineteen hundred and two. Jaehyun was the doctor, Taeyong was the mother, Yuta—she didn’t know, Winwin was the fixer-upper, Ten was the athletic one, Doyoung was the happy virus, Taeil was the grandfather, and Johnny—she gasped.

Johnny was her lover.

She remembered when she got her amnesia. It had been this way since nineteen eighty-two. She couldn’t remember how but she remembered when. She had woken up in New York when she couldn’t remember her birthday, her family, or anything. All she could remember was her name. When she got up now feeling more awake than ever. She was happy that she got to remember, happy that she could remember the only things she had lost—home. She didn’t know how she was going to say to them, “Hey I magically remember my memories!” without them feeling like she’s lying.

She walked out of the room and went to the living room where only Yuta was. He was reading a book, but one that she did know of. He was probably ignoring her or didn’t know she was actually there. He finally looked up at her. His face wasn’t a scowl or anything like he’s usually been, it was innocent almost sweet-like. “Do you need anything?”

She stood there frozen for a moment. “Yuta, was it?” she looked to the side before sitting down. “What are you reading?”

“ _A Tall Tale_ , you use,” his eyes widened and his voice went quiet as he looked to the side, “to read to us.”

He shook his head. “You won’t know what it is.” she however does. It was her  _favorite_ book that she used to tell stories to the Lost Boys.

“Well, it’s like the Grimm Brothers stories but not as  _grim_ ,” cue the bad puns. Yuta chuckled before cringing. “It’s of a girl, I always messed up her name—”

“Saphrina?”

“Her!” Wendy exclaimed, “Yes her! She goes on these adventures through a land and fixes the tales the Grimm brothers made, making them innocent and suitable for children.”

Yuta looked at her with a smile then his mouth dropped. “You remember?”

“That obvious?” she smiled then was engulfed in a hug.

“She’s back! She’s back! Wendy remembers!” Yuta was practically jumping with Wendy in his arms.

“She remembers?” Jaehyun yelled from down the hall. Everyone was running to the living room to see the new and glorified Wendy.

“I remember!” she threw her hands in the air.

“So you remember me?” Johnny emerged from the boys.

She smiled walking over to Johnny. “Yes I do,  _giant_.” she wrapped her arms around his body since she couldn’t reach his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her pulling her closer, and instead of the Lost Boys leaving them to complain about their ‘PDA’ they instead got into a big hug around them. Wendy let out a little ‘wah!’ while they all huddled around them. Johnny and Wendy were pushed together but they didn’t mind—they all didn’t mind. They were in their own happy world, together, when they huddled in their group hug. Everything seemed happy, seemed right, only because Wendy was back.

_Peter had found his Wendy._

“Okay,” Taeil clapped his hands together as everyone started to separate from each other, “why is Yuta not a ball of fire like he was?”

“Maybe it had something to do with Wendy,” Jaehyun proposed, “I mean, she’s back and without her, we’ve been living in nightmares.”

“ _Other_ than Yuta, we have to tell her what we’ve been doing. We  _do_ need her help after all,” Taeyong reminded them.

“Help with what?”

Wendy looked at them with her hands on her hips and staring upwards. She was confused of course but she had to have known it had something to do with Captain Hook. That part was a bit fuzzy for her though,  _him_ , the psychotic wearing hook man.

“Is it about Hook?”

“Yeah, he has something and it has something to do with you and time travel, but I don’t know. Johnny can’t remember,” Taeyong explained to her.

“You mean he  _won’t_ ,” Taeil corrected.

“Look, it’s alright if he won’t or can’t remember,” Ten finally spoke up, “all we have is Wendy now and at least she can help us. She knows of the outside world better than any of us, so our weapon is her.”

“No, our weapon is  _books_! I remember a lot of books about time travel and involving people.”

“See, told you.”

“Ten, shut up nobody likes a know-it-all,” Winwin and Yuta commented together.

“Do you know anywhere we can get books or something?” Doyoung asked approaching her.

“I don’t know, I haven’t been back to my home in nearly forty or fifty years. The house may be torn down or something—”

“It’s not,” Johnny intervened, “it...it was turned into a museum back in the eighties. Apparently, your predecessors did something worth noting for.”

“I wonder what they did, my family was just a quiet bunch.”

She shrugged it off as they continued on with the conversation of explaining the plan and what all has happened in the years she’s had amnesia. It turned out in nineteen-eighty-three is when she first got her amnesia. She couldn’t remember how or why she had woken up in New York but she did. She asked around who she was and almost was admitted to a hospital but luckily found out how people worked and that if she was going to find herself she was going to have to find a job.

She found out though that she couldn’t get a job without a college degree, so she went back to school and started getting her degrees. She had then realized that she wasn’t aging nor could she die, so that’s how she began to love going to college. It wasn’t because she liked learning but mainly because of the drama. It was like a tv show to her, like a sitcom. Although it was a repetitive sitcom it was still funny, just with different generations with new kids coming in.

“So, we’re going to that library?”

“Wait,” Wendy said and everyone came to a halt, “we should have some others go to another library in case because the one at my home, well the museum, might not have the book.”

“Okay, team one is; Taeyong, Johnny, and Wendy, team two is; Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Ten, and lastly team three is; Winwin, Yuta, and Taeil.”

“So I get one person I dislike the most and the person I love the most,” Yuta commented, “at least it’s a nice balance.”

“ _Dislike_?” Taeil exclaimed.

“You love me!” Winwin said as he hugged Yuta.

Wendy couldn’t help but let out a little giggle as the rest were chuckling and laughing. This is how it should have been, then laughing and having fun not worrying about living or dying. It was their code; live forever young. Peter Pan, their never aging young forever boy and Wendy, their smart courageous girl to Peter Pan.

 

When they made it to her childhood home team one (her team) was to go to her home, team two (Jaehyun’s team) was to go to the local library, and team three (Taeil’s team) was to go to the fancier library of mythology.

“And Taeil,” Taeyong talked into the phone to team three, “make sure Yuta and Winwin don’t do anything.”

“I don’t know, I mean they were already cuddling with each other on the way up here.”

“Just do it,” Taeyong sighed.

There was a moment of silence before the phone hung up. Taeyong rolled his eyes at the phone even though it was an inanimate object. He sauntered his way over to one of the bookshelves and Johnny and Wendy went to another one. “You’re sure that'll work?”

“Sure! Why do you doubt me, Tyler?”

Taeyong growled a little at the name but went back to resuming. She knew what book it was, it  _had_ to be here. It was called,  _Adventures: Space and Time_ , it talked a lot about time travel and time paradoxes. She used to read it all the time before she was taken by Peter. She had to leave behind a lot of things when she left, but the only thing she didn’t leave behind was sanity. Without, it these boys wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.

A call interrupted the silence. “Yeah?” Taeyong said answering the phone and putting it on speaker.

“ _Adventures: Space and Time,_ right? I got it!” a pause was heard before the male spoke again. “Uh,” Jaehyun spoke on the phone, “goons. They’re here.”

“Goons? Try to find a back exit!” Johnny exclaimed, “If not then we’ll come to you!”

“There  _is_ no back exit!” Jaehyun hissed.

“...just to be sure we’re all on the same page—” Wendy started to speak.

“Page? We’re not even in the same  _library_!” Jaehyun shrieked.

He did seem to be in distress, and even more, after she heard crashes upon crashes in the background. She heard Doyoung scream then Ten saying, “Look out!” She didn’t understand what was going on but she was scared for their lives. She heard their distressed voices and the building collapsing, or what sounded like a building collapsing.

“You guys okay?” Taeyong and Taeil into their phones.

“A little, a pillar fell on them and nearly crushed Ten, Doyoung, and I, but overall we have minimal casualties!”

“We’ll make our way over to you, okay?” Taeil explained, “If I can get Yuta to stop hugging Winwin every second.”

“He  _loves_ me!” Winwin shrieked, “I’m sorry for that!”

“He’s been muttering that every since we got here,” Taeil mumbled into the phone.

“I’ll stop them,” Taeyong sighed making his way down the ladder.

Wendy and Johnny were already down the ladder and near the exit. They usually called Taeyong old man in these incidents but now wasn’t really the time as they knew of Taeyong’s wrath rather well. He wasn’t nice when he was angry, which was rare.

“Where was their library at?” Taeyong asks the two as they walked out.

“I’m assuming where the rubble and torn down building is,” said Wendy as bluntly as possible.

The place started to look like a ruin, more, unlike her hometown. The way the buildings were all old and worn down and how easily they fell. It started to look more like a fallout with nothing to spare and rarely anyone around. They hadn’t found anyone wandering around nor did they interact with anyone than themselves. Wendy would have known if they saw anyone because she knew that her group would say something about them—either negative or positive. Just what  _had_ happened here?

The building was still upright and still well structured for a blast that big. She heard coughs in the distance and then a loud drawled out, “ _Yaaaay_!” She wasn’t scared of much anymore due to them scaring her themselves. “Stop being an idiot Doyoung.”

Doyoung huffed and crossed his arms with Jaehyun and Ten limping their way towards the excited male. Jaehyun and Ten had dirt on both of their faces along with some of their clothes ripped. Doyoung looked fine as ever, spotless without a speck of dirt on him, almost surreal. Jaehyun and Ten were groaning as they held each other up while Doyoung was as smiling as ever.

What came next was the chaotic group. Taeil walked up looking at least thirty years older and with bags under his eyes—probably from sleep deprivation. He looked as if someone just ate his last pie or something and didn’t leave any for him. Yuta came up back hugging Winwin and looking content as ever. He had a smile tugging his lips and he sighed into Winwin’s shoulder. Winwin just looked dumbly happy as he held the elder upright. She didn’t know where all this love came from but she knew it wasn’t the last of it.

“Home so we can rest the elders?” Wendy looked at Ten, Jaehyun, Taeil, and Taeyong.

“ _Home,_ ” Taeyong whispered in a menacing tone with his eyes darkening.

  
  


When they got home they all gathered in the living room, Wendy having the book in hand and scrolling through it. She looked so intently like she was still in school, like a project or something. It was a good quiet moment, Johnny about to fall asleep on Wendy’s shoulder—although she didn’t care—and the rest starting to get hungry. “Ah!” she exclaimed, “Here—oh”

Her expression darkened and went sullen. She looked at the page with worry as Johnny peered over her shoulder wondering why she was from happy to—what was it scared? Fear even? She gulped before looking back up. “If the person wishes to alter the timeline in their own way then something must alter politics, history, or even kill the person,” she read weakly.

“We’re not going to let you die,” Johnny reassured her.

“Oh, but you did,” a familiar voice came from the depths of the shadows.

“ _Hook_!” Johnny roared, “You’re not killing her!”

A dark and sinful chuckle came from the darkness. It felt  _terrifying_ that he had the upper hand here. They couldn’t see him but he could see  _them_. The way he chuckled, his dark plans, it made them have shivered and fear run up their spines. Knowing that he could easily off them made them feel fear for the first time. Knowing that they could  _die_ scared them as it was. “I won’t be killing  _just_ her. What would be better if I could off  _all of you_!” his roar rang in their ears only just to echo in their heads.

Jaehyun perked up and started to look around. “I hear a ticking sound.”

“Bomb?” Wendy asked looking around as well.

“I better find it fast if you want to live since you only have—well I wouldn’t know, there  _is_ no time!” there it was, that deep sinful and dark cackle.

Everyone started to panic and started to look everywhere. Wendy was scared not just for her life but for theirs as well. She counted them as family and wouldn’t want them to die with them or without them. They live forever, and that’s how it should be.

“Found it!” Taeyong held it in the air. “Okay, Wendy you do it. You have the most experience.”

Wendy took the bomb from his hands and examined it. It had all the right wires but no timer. Maybe it was on the inside? When she took it in her hands she could help but just look at it. She gulped trying to remember, trying to figure how to disarm the bomb that could kill them but nothing came to mind. Her mind went blank. “I forgot.”

Taeyong looked at her with a dull expression.“Who forgets to disarm a bomb that could potentially explode the world?!”

She cleared her throat and took one of the wires. “Well, that’s a stupid question. The answer is obviously me.” she took the red wire in her hand. “I’m completely guessing but if this turns out to be wrong I am  _so_ sorry.”

“At least you love us.” Yuta shrugged. “That’s all we could ask for.”

She pulled the red wire. Everyone had their eyes closed ready to die any moment, but nothing came. Was her luck really with her? She opened her eyes as so did the rest and looked at the bomb. She gulped and then it was all white. She had blacked out for a few moments but everything was just white. It was as if nothing existed except for her. It felt vast but lonely. Was this the end?

“Wendy?” she heard someone she needed the most.

“Johnny!” she wrapped her arms around him and it all just came out. Her tears that she had unconsciously held in, her doubts, her worries. “I’m sorry! I picked the wrong wire! I’m sorry!”

He just held her as he himself was breaking inside. It hurt himself to know he  _could_ die. He didn’t even need to know if this was death or not, but it felt like it to him. Everything was vast, but even with no pain, it all  _hurt_. He didn’t know how long this would last, the pain or the numbness but as long as he could hold Wendy he would be fine. The way she held on as she was blaming herself. This hurt him so much to know she’s blaming herself for something that he couldn’t bring himself to say, that it was her fault. Even in her faults he still loved her.

She looked up at him, tears filling her already swollen eyes, “But why? Why would you love me?”

He tightened his grip, pulling her more snugly into his embrace, “Because you bug me, weirdo. Duh.”

She laughed while crying into the embrace. To laugh while crying hurt him because he knew it  _hurt_ her. When she pulled away she noticed something about him changing. Before she could yell out “no!” or “not yet!” he was already gone. She fell to her knees with tears probably blinding her. She screamed and hit the ground until her knuckles turned red and bloody. She whined and cried until she couldn’t anymore. She had just come back only to be Wendy again. It wasn’t Wendy to your Peter Pan—it was just Wendy, as he was just Peter Pan.

 

She chuckled as the cuffs stopped her from harming anyone. Her hair wasn’t the like blonde as it was, as it was now dark. Her sweet personality went away with a cold one. She hurt but it was hidden away along with her personality. She moved the hair out of her face and had a sickly grin as she stared at him across the metal table. She had tried to get out of the handcuffs—screaming, yelling, thrashing, everything. She just stopped after awhile and sat there with a smile.

The man smiled. “Miss,” his voice still as dull as before. She was beginning to get sick of it. “Who  _are_ you?” he laid out the pictures of her in a different timeline. Some were old some were new. “Maybe we can help you.”

She laughed thrashing one hand up and causing the table to jerk. She looked up at him, no soul or light in her eyes—just a sickly grin with a demon. She spoke in a sweet but sinful and spine-shivering tone.

“You  _can’t_ help me.”


End file.
